


Storge

by CKBookish



Series: Batman Bingo 2020 [13]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Bruce Needs a Hug, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Gen, He just doesn't know he's a dad yet, Hurt Bruce Wayne, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Inaccuracies, No editing we die like mne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:55:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24187741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CKBookish/pseuds/CKBookish
Summary: Bruce could have sworn his spirit had left him momentarily.  The sudden hollowness that filled him couldn’t be explained in any other way.“Your dad must have his hands full with you.”  Elizabeth Ribbons leaned forward and patted Dick’s shoulder, as he reached for yet another slice of cheesecake from a passing waiter’s tray.Bruce fixed his eyes on the ice sculpture that hid him from view.  It suddenly seemed like the most interesting design in the world.  The soft lines of the ice on the otherwise insignificant over sized swan seemed like a lead shield...  Because Dick would read it easily in his expression. He wanted to be Dick’s dad.  But he wasn’t.Batman Bingo 2020: Dad.
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne
Series: Batman Bingo 2020 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590904
Comments: 59
Kudos: 427





	Storge

**Author's Note:**

> So this idea hit my while doing dishes of all things. It arose from a deleted part of Vital Signs, so it connects to that. You don't need to read it though to understand this. 
> 
> So This is for Northoftheroad on Tumblr, who hinted at a part two of Vital Signs. 
> 
> Anyway hope you enjoy. Comments and kudos are always treasured!

Please don’t tell me the truth

I can live all my days in a lie

But don’t 

I can’t 

if you rip it away

I’ll break 

Let me have this lie

* * *

Bruce could have sworn his spirit left him momentarily. The sudden hollowness that filled him couldn’t be explained in any other way. 

“Your dad must have his hands full with you.” Elizabeth Ribbons leaned forward and patted Dick’s shoulder, as he reached for yet  _ another  _ slice of cheesecake from a passing waiter’s tray. 

Bruce fixed his eyes on the ice sculpture that hid him from view. It suddenly seemed like the most interesting design in the world. The soft lines of the ice on the otherwise insignificant over sized swan seemed like a lead shield. Dick had always been able to read him far better than Superman. If he saw him now, he would know. He would see how much that word meant. He would see how much it  _ hurt  _ when Dick would give a soft denial. It would ruin everything. It would destroy seven years of partnership. It would tear down the carefully assembled wall that Bruce had spent years slowly putting in place. The wall that sealed away the secret most wish of his heart would tumble and it would be plain to see. Because Dick would read it easily in his expression. He  _ wanted  _ to be Dick’s dad. But he wasn’t. 

That easy throw away promise to never try to replace his parents had passed his lips before he realized, he could never really keep it. He had spent too much time with the boy. He had put band-aids on skinned elbows and knees, he had listened to rambled tales, and stayed up late worrying too many times for it to be anything else. 

What was worse was that Dick seemed to realize it too. Bruce could think of no other explanation for the increasingly distant behavior that existed between them. He could give no explanation for the growing number of arguments between the two, other than Dick realized what Bruce wanted and didn’t like it. 

“Yeah, he and Alfred are always threatening me with boarding school.” Dick laughed as he broke apart the cake and handed half to the elderly woman.

“Oh, nonsense. He dotes on you. You should have heard him last month at the Mackennel’s dinner. I’ve never seen a father rant about their child so.”

Bruce blinked. The gut wrenching answer he had heard for years didn’t come. Bruce had come to expect it. He would carefully form his face into a small smile that was as close to his real one as he could fake. Over the years hearing “Oh no, he’s just my guardian” had become less an unexpected slap in the face and more a bullet to the chest, but they could be counted on. Dick’s answer was always consistent. 

Unsure of how to feel, he backed away from the buffet unseen by the pair still chatting happily. He would ask Dick later if he had seen Mr. Fox. It wasn’t really important anyway. Much less important than trying to figure out what had just happened. Bruce didn’t think he could look at the boy, it would reveal too much. 

Bruce found himself seated on the patio staring absently at the neatly mowed lawn of the Canteberry’s estate. Alfred would have liked the arrangement of begonias near the pond. It was perhaps not quite what Bruce would have preferred, but Alfred always found this style of landscaping nice. Voices were drifting out the still cracked door along with light music. It was in all a very pleasant event. Bruce had been enjoying it. He had been for once having  _ fun _ . The company of guests invited had contained a decent list of people he liked spending time with. Sure he didn’t like everyone in attendance, but there were enough friendly faces, that he had been… content. 

His public persona he let slip slightly, he had been perhaps more  _ energetic  _ than he would have been in truth, but he hadn’t really had to lie all evening. Now though, Bruce felt as if he had a nest of vipers swimming in his gut. 

Bruce liked to think he knew Dick well enough to spot a lie, but now… Bruce couldn’t tell. Their fighting had left an uncomfortable distance between the two. Maybe Bruce didn’t know him as well as he once had? Had he just let the comment pass so as not to upset Mrs. Ribbons? Or -- Bruce could hardly hope-- had he meant it? It had been years since Dick had told him firmly he didn’t want, or need a father. Perhaps he had changed his mind. Bruce wondered for a moment when the last time he heard Dick correct someone who gave Bruce the title had been. His memory failed him.

“A picture will last longer, B.”

Bruce barely stopped himself from jumping. 

“It’s kinda getting late…” Dick spoke slowly making his way to where Bruce was still sitting. 

“I was looking at the flowers. They’re arranged similarly to a property in Yorkshire I stayed at when I was young.”

“Yeah?” Dick sank down next to him. “Was it a good trip?”

Bruce smiled at the unasked question-- before or after they died. “I didn’t think so at the time, but I was a bit of a stick in the mud anywhere we were.” Bruce thought  _ maybe  _ he should go back and try again. Alfred would like that. They could actually go to that museum this time. Dick always loved when they took trips, no matter how short.

Dick leaned over and bumped him slightly with his shoulder. “I never liked when we were in England on tour. Too much rain.”

“Gotham’s rainy.” Bruce’s heart sunk.

“Yeah. that's…” Dick trailed off with a slight frown. “I guess I’ve gotten used to it.”

Bruce glanced over at Dick wondering-- not for the first time-- if he was making a mistake. He could afford to live anywhere, be anything. Yet he was choosing to live, make Dick live, in one of the most dangerous cities in the world. “Do… where did you like best?”

“Oh,” Dick looked at him puzzled slightly. “I don’t know. I liked Italy a lot. Sunshine and beaches.”

“Do you want to go back?” Bruce held his breath for a moment, wondering if he could handle the answer.

“We never stayed anywhere for long. I think I’d like to see some places, but Gotham puts its claws in you. Don’t worry B, a little rain isn’t going to scare me away.” Dick’s smile was luminous. 

Bruce felt his lips part slightly, a small smile. Something seemed lodged in his throat for a moment. Maybe it was the hope he’d allowed himself to feel after hearing Dick speaking with Mrs. Ribbons, but Bruce felt himself overcome with affection for the boy next to him. “You come out to get me?”

Dick glanced around. “If you're still wanting to look into that  _ thing. _ ”

Bruce nodded and stood. He cast one last look at the garden before making his way into the house. They would make their excuses. 

Bruce could feel heat radiating from Dick as he trailed close behind him all the way through the house. They had been half way home when the bat signal was lit. 

* * *

Commissioner Gordon stood tapping his foot slightly, a cigarette dropping cinders as he waved his hand around. “We have him in custody but he is too drunk to remember where he set the bomb. We’re canvassing factories owned by Ace, but It would really help if you could give us a hand.”

Robin was balanced on the edge of the bat signal holding himself in a one handed handstand, as Gordon spoke. “Sure we can do that, Commish.” 

Batman eyed Robin warily. “How long until it’s meant to go off?”

“Just under an hour.” Gordon glanced at his watch. “57 minutes now.”

Batman glanced at his digital display in the cowl, mentally calculating when it would exploit. 2:23. It was going to be a long night. Rather than speak to Gordon Batman nodded once and was sailing across the sky, pulled silently by his grappling line. He stopped a few blocks away from the police station. 

Robin landed gracefully behind him. “So what’s the plan? I can take the south side cover Dixons and the Tricorner, Ace only has three factories down there so it shouldn’t take too long, and you can check the four by the port.”

Bruce felt the pool of vipers in his gut stir. “No, I… We’ll go together. We’ll be able to sweep the factories quicker that way.”

“B, that’s ridiculous. Splitting up we’ll cover more ground.”

“This isn’t a discussion. We’re not splitting up. My comm unit is not working, and if you find the bomb you won’t be able to call for support.” Bruce knew that Robin was highly trained, he knew he could diffuse a number of bombs, but if this one proved to be too difficult… no, they would stay together. 

“Batman. That is completely ridiculous. I don’t need back up to defuse a bomb. And why is your comm not -- Did you grab the wrong cowl? Is this the one that got smashed last week?” Dick was almost smirking at Bruce’s mistake. It wasn’t often he got to tease the man for one.

“Save it. We’re wasting time. We’ll head to Dixon’s first.” Bruce didn’t like the look on Dick’s face as he turned away. His half smile evaporated at Bruce’s tone. He pushed down his guilt at snapping. He had messed up. Dick had every right to tease him. When  _ he  _ messed up he received a long lecture from both Batman and Alfred. It was only fair he be allowed to tease Bruce. He would have to address it later, they were on a tight deadline. 

Searching the first two factories lead to an increasingly icy edge from Dick. Every time Robin was out of sight, Bruce suddenly felt sick and called him back. Robin was becoming more and more annoyed. They were half way through sweeping the third factory when they found the bomb. An unexplained urge to tell Robin to leave, nagged at Batman’s mind. He couldn’t understand it. 

“Okay, so the timer is here.” Dick pulled back a panel slowly. 

Batman almost sighed when he saw the complex entanglement of wires. 

“He must be  _ really  _ drunk. This is a mess.” Dick looked down at the crisscrossing wires and cables that were attached to a strange casing. 

“I’ll get the chemicals detached, if you work on the trigger.”

Robin nodded absently, as he inspected the mess before him. 

Bruce quickly moved to the attached tanks. Ammonium nitrate and a Ace invention were attached to the trigger that Robin was inspecting. Hoping the Ammonium nitrate was the main explosive, he began looking for a way to disconnect it from the device. 

Fortunately for Batman the would be bomber was no genius and he had used a tank with a draining port affixed to the bottom. Bruce cast around for a container to empty the tank into. He hesitated only for a moment before walking away from Robin. Batman found a large tub that likely had originally been for storing decorations or office goods. He hurried back to Dick still standing next to the bomb. Seven minutes. They had seven more minutes before it was due to go off. Bruce ran faster. Placing the tub under the draining port he turned the knob to open all the way. The liquid splattered and made a sickening smacking sound as it hit the plastic of the tub. Bruce wondered briefly if the chemical was safe to breathe the fumes of, and whether or not it would melt the plastic. He couldn’t remember now. He was much too focused on the minutes counting down as the liquid pooled out slow as molasses. At least it felt to move that slow. 

He was far too distracted by Robin’s proximity to the explosive. Every few minutes he bit back the order to run and leave the bomb and Batman. Bruce looked at the clock. Two minutes. He had reduced the liquid by two thirds from the triggering mechanism. It wasn’t enough. 

“Robin?”

“Umm. Yeah. Sorry it's all very messy. He’s mixed everything around, but I think it’s this one.”

Bruce felt a lump rise in his throat. “You think or you know?”

Dick’s mouth contorted into a scowl. “Know. It’s this one.” He aggressively gestured to a thick black cord. 

“If you're wrong?”

Dick tilted his head as if to say  _ Seriously? _

Bruce felt cold all over. If Robin was wrong they would die. Bruce wondered if there would be anything left of them. Anything left of his so-- No. 

“No, we leave it. The factory is isolated enough to not cause any collateral damage when it goes up.”

“What?” Dick looked at him aghast. “B, It’s right here. I just need to,” He reached forward to take hold of the black cord. 

“NO!” Batman’s shout surprised even himself. The image of burnt and tattered remains flashed before him. “Let’s go.”

Robin’s face was as red as his tunic. “I-- I know what I’m doing. Just because you’ve decided to become a cowardly controlling chicken doesn’t mea--”

“This isn’t up for discussion.” Bruce hissed and grabbed his arm beginning to run. He pulled Dick along with him. Robin didn’t fight him at least, He allowed himself to be pulled away from the bomb, and quickly fell into step beside Bruce as they ran. 

Bruce looked at the clock. They weren’t going to get out. They had been too deep in the factory. Batman’s blood ran cold. 

“B, in here,” Dick pulled Batman through a door in the hall they had been running down. “The floor plan showe--”

Bruce reached forward and wrapped himself around his son as the explosion ripped through the air. 

* * *

Bruce woke feeling a horrible tugging on his lower half. It felt as if his legs were being pulled from his torso. The bottom of his cowl where it covered his chin dug into his face as he was dragged. He groaned as his ribs brushed against something hard on the surface he was being pulled over. 

Someone was muttering. calloused fingers pushed back the cowl slightly to reach his throat. Only a handful of people knew where there was enough space in the fabric to do that. The hand was gone before Bruce could really understand why it was there to begin with. His body felt like it was floating slightly. Suddenly white hot pain shot through his side. Bruce’s eyes flew open. Dick knelt next to him. His face was covered in soot. Tracks of sweat left lines in the soot as they ran down his face. 

“Robin?” Bruce’s voice didn’t come out as loud as he wanted it to.

“Yeah. How you feeling, B?”

Bruce frowned. He could care less how he was. How was Dick? Was he hurt? Bruce couldn’t remember what had gotten them here. That should have been troubling. Batman had excellent memory skills. But right now he could care less. He couldn’t feel much of his body anyway. “Hrn. I’ve been better. You?” 

Dick stiffened slightly. 

Bruce looked over him again. Wher--

“I’m fine. You on the other hand...” 

Bruce couldn’t focus on the words coming out of Dick’s mouth. It sounded muffled, far away. Bruce really wanted to go home now. Alfred would make sure Dick was okay. Alfred. He should call Alfred. “Did you call Agent A?”

It took a moment for Bruce to register that Dick shook his head. He reached for his comm. He really wanted to take a long nap. 

“I didn’t call because…” 

The words seemed to go in and out of tune. Bruce watched as Dick poured packing powder over him. It burned as the compounds mixed with his blood forming a clout. 

“You grabbed the wrong one...Remember?”

No. He most certainly didn’t remember. What had Dick been saying?

“I’m not incompetent, Bruce.” Dick hissed at him.

Bruce blinked back black spots, as Dick continued dressing his wound. Wait, when had he gotten that? “Robin, I didn’t say you were.”

Dick scoffed.

Gritting his teeth Bruce pushed himself up into a sitting position to allow Dick better maneuverability as he dressed his injury.. He needed to move. He needed to get them out of here. A wave of dizziness overtook him. Taking slow deep breaths, he looked around. They were in a burning room. Bruce was injured, had been knocked out for… “How long was I out?”

Dick was staring intently at the work he was doing, “No Clue. I came about a minute and a Half before you.”

Bruce turned his focus to Robin. “Did you hit your head?”

Dick shrugged off his concern, “Probably.”

Bruce grunted dissatisfied. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. I told you I’m fine. Okay that should hold for a bit. Anything else leaking?” Dick sat back on his heels and began looking for further damage. 

An involuntary snort escaped him. “Not at the moment.”

“Broken?”

Bruce thought for a moment letting the pain wash over him. His arm hurt, but that was too general. It was his… elbow. Yes his left elbow was the source of the pain shooting up and down his left arm. His whole torso felt like it was inflamed. He had been battered by whatever had… had there been a bomb? Yeah. They were looking for a bomb. Great. They found it alright, then. Bruce took a shallow breath and felt his ribs strain. “A Couple fractured ribs and possibly my elbow.”

So you can walk?”

Bruce honestly wasn’t sure. He couldn’t really feel his legs anymore. Which as far as he was concerned was an improvement from the horrible pulling he had felt as he woke. But he had no other option. Robin wouldn’t leave him, and he couldn’t carry him either. Bruce gritted his teeth and pushed himself up. His vision filled with a bright white light, as his body fought with his mind.  _ Mind over matter. Mind over matter. _ Bruce couldn’t let his body beat him, not when Robin was here. 

“-- we get heat rash.”

“Yes. I-- “ Bruce wasn’t really sure what Dick had said. But it didn’t matter, it would have been something about moving. The room looked unstable. Wait. Bruce couldn’t remember coming in here. Sure he was having a hard time remembering much of anything at the moment but he distinctly remembered being in a sub basement with a vat of chemicals. “This isn’t the room we were in before is it?

“I didn’t ask the tour guide what room we were in, B.”

“Do you still have the building plans on your computer?” Bruce swayed slightly. Standing was taking more effort than he had predicted. 

“Well yes, but you’re forgetting the bomb also--”

Oh yes, they couldn’t reach Alfred and if Dick’s computer worked that wouldn’t be a problem. “Knocked out the tech. Right. Right.” 

“It’s okay though. I remember the layout. I think we’re in a storage room off the East hall that leads to the offices.”

Bruce frowned. He could remember talking about the offices earlier when they were looking for the bomb. “Right so we need to head…

“This way” Dick turned away from Bruce and began weaving his way through the chaos. 

Bruce watched as Dick moved over and under fallen beams that were still ablaze. He moved over fallen chairs and shelves quickly. Bruce blundered his way after him, his eyes fixed on the yellow of Robin’s cape, like a guiding star. Each time he put his foot down it felt like his legs were made of jello. He wished they were. It would hurt less to be jello. It didn’t take long to realize how badly he was hurt. Dick knew it too. He flinched as Bruce stumbled and crashed his way after him. Each time Bruce made a sound, Robin would glance back at him. Bruce hated the crease between his eyebrows that formed every time he looked back. He hated that he had caused Dick to worry. He shouldn’t be making his kid… His… Bruce blinked, why had he thought that. Dick was… Was he? Bruce never let himself even think that. It was too painful. Dick was his ward, his partner, his friend. Why had he thought of him as his kid? Bruce remembered there was a reason, but what that reason was… it was like smoke-- impossible to grasp. 

Bruce’s eyes lost focus for a moment. He blinked several times, but found it made no difference. It was smoke, real smoke. The room they were in was burning. Why were they here? Bruce opened his mouth to ask Dick. Dick would know. He was so smart. Another wave of dizziness washed over him and he had to close his eyes. Dick was moving again. He could hear it. He was lifting something. Bruce forced his eyes open again. A large --Bruce couldn't remember the word-- Something blocked the door. It looked heavy, he should lift it for him. Bruce couldn’t remember how to tell his arms to move. They hung useless against him. 

Dick made no comment on Bruce’s lack of assistance. He really must not be looking good then. Robin always teased Batman. It was their thing. Bruce would frown and tell him off, and Dick would laugh and do it anyway. Why didn’t Dick tease him? It felt like they hadn’t been doing that for a while. But that’s silly. Dick knew that Bruce secretly enjoyed it. And Dick…

Dick was moving again. The smoke in the hallway was thicker than it had been inside the room. Bruce blinked rapidly as black encroached on his vision. No. He needed to move. 

“Robin,” Bruce fought the urge to throw up. “I think I need help.”

Suddenly Robin was there, pulling his good arm over his shoulder, and letting Batman’s weight settle on him. Robin felt so small tucked under his armpit. 

“Uff. You need to go on a diet.” Dick laughed as he adjusted his grip.

Bruce liked how it sounded. “I’m not fat.”

“Then you need a lighter suit.”

Bruce blinked. He wanted to see Dick’s face. Was he smiling? If he was smiling then they would be okay. Everything hurt. “Yes, let me call Lucius and see how that goes over.”

Dick pulled him forward suddenly. 

Bruce, groaned as a wave of pain took him. He didn’t feel like jello anymore. He missed feeling like jello.  _ Something  _ had moved. Each time they took a step forward Bruce felt something grinding together in his chest. A rib maybe. 

Suddenly Bruce realized they weren’t moving. He slowly peeled his eyes open. “Robin?”

“Just getting you your batbreather, Old Man.” Dick’s voice sounded rough. Right smoke. They were in a burning building. Bruce’s eyes slid shut again. Smart. How did he manage to get such a smart kid? He should have made Dick put his on earlier. Lousy Dad, he was. Bruce frowned. Why had he thought that?

“‘M not old.” Bruce's voice came out more cracked than he expected. 

Dick pushed something over his face, still talking to him. But Bruce had lost all ability to concentrate. His mind could do nothing but focus on fighting back pain. Every time he opened his eyes they seemed to be in a new place. Going around some new obstacle. Dick kept pulling him along. 

Finally Dick came to a stop. Bruce, not expecting it twisted slightly. Whatever had been grinding snapped. Bruce felt his legs buckle, he heard Dick shout, and succumbed to darkness. 

* * *

Bruce woke to the sounds of several machines whirring, and chirping. There was a soft blanket laid across him that didn’t quite cut the cold. The faint smell of bats hung in the air. The Cave. He was in the cave. Bruce slowly forced his eyelids to peel back. He felt pleasantly numb, which probably meant he was on enough painkillers to down a horse. He _always_ felt slightly sore. So the absence of any discomfort was more telling about his condition than anything else could be. 

He took in the number of wires connecting him to a series of monitors and tubes to IVs. Two IVs, so he had lost enough blood for a transfusion. He glanced around and spotted Alfred bustling around the medical bay. Clearing away equipment to be cleaned, and bloody stretches of gauze. 

“Al?”

Alfred whipped around putting a hand against his chest. “Good heavens, I thought you would be out for the whole night. How are you feeling, Master Bruce?”

“I-- Where’s Dick? I don’t remember… There was a bomb.”

“Yes, Master Dick is here--” Alfred waved to the second gurney in the medbay.

Dick still in his suit, had an oxygen mask strapped to his face and the thicker blanket that Alfred stored in the cave draped over him. He was covered in a layer of soot. His tunic-- barely visible over the blanket-- was snagged and singed in places. 

“--He has some smoke inhalation.”

Bruce started forward.

“He will be _fine_.” Alfred held up a hand to stop Bruce from sitting up. “Dr. Thompkins gave him a once over. I want to give him a chest x-ray when he wakes up-- just to be safe-- but she was satisfied with his breathing, and oxygen levels.”

“He’s unconscious?”

“No. Just fell asleep. He was _quite_ done in from getting you home. Giving you CPR, dragging you out of a factory and driving the Batmobile left him exhausted. I didn’t even have to tell him to lay down. Though I would have preferred he shower before sleeping” Alfred sighed and turned back to cleaning. 

Bruce blinked. He… Dick brought him back to the cave. Bruce couldn’t remember getting out of the building. He had… He had carried him out? No. Dick was far too small to carry him. He was strong but there was only so much a fifteen year old could do. He weighed nearly 300 pounds with the whole Batsuit. Dick wouldn’t have...However he had managed to get them out was more than impressive. 

“Alfred?”

The butler turned back to Bruce with his eyebrow raised. 

“I really messed up.”

Alfred’s jaw dropped. “I beg your pardon?”

“I was too emotional. He said he could disarm it, but I… I panicked.”

Alfred set down the trash bag he was holding and made his way to Bruce’s cot. “Why?”

Bruce pushed the blanket back and began twirling one of the wires attached to his chest, a heart monitor he thought. For once Alfred didn’t reach out to stop him. “Tonight… he…”

Alfred stood silent, waiting him out.

“He didn’t correct her.” Bruce said looking at Alfred in confusion.

“Correct who?”

“Mrs. Ribbons. She called me--” Bruce sucked back a breath. “She called me his dad, and he didn’t correct her.” He searched Alfred’s eyes for understanding. 

“And so you felt?”

“I don’t know. What if--”

“How did it make you feel, sir?” Alfred spoke over him.

“Glad. I was glad.” Bruce looked away suddenly ashamed. He had been glad that he had been called Dick’s dad, but he had let it get in the way tonight. 

“It’s not a crime to love someone, Master Bruce. He'll be fine. You didn’t hurt him.”

Bruce frowned, still twirling the cord. “It can’t get in the way again.”

“No. But you are smart enough to figure it out.” Alfred hesitated for a moment before patting his shoulder lightly. “Now back to sleep, sir.” 

Bruce let Alfred pull the cord from between his fingers and adjust his blanket. 

When he next woke the cave was silent. Alfred was nowhere to be seen, but Dick still lay unmoved. The IVs were no longer attached to the ports on his arm, and a cast had been set on his left arm up past the elbow. Bruce wondered for a moment how he had slept through _that_. But then Alfred was very good at his job. He _was_ still connected to several monitors. 

He also had regained some feeling and he  _ hurt _ . His chest hurt a lot. CPR would do that though. Bruce turned his head and stared at Dick for a long while. It wasn’t often anymore that he got to see him actually sleeping. When he was young he used to crawl in his bed after a nightmare, but of course fifteen was much too old for that. Bruce missed it. Not the nightmares perhaps but the closeness. Bruce doubted Dick had really outgrown the nightmares. Bruce knew  _ he  _ still got them. 

After laying half an hour staring at his … son, Yeah. Bruce liked that, son… he got thirsty and decided to brave getting up. He stood and steadied himself on the nearest counter. Slowly he started towards the mini refrigerator that held bottled water and bags of blood and saline. He tugged the wires away from the skin on his chest and shoulder, when the cord no longer had any slack. 

Alarms blared as the monitor detached from Bruce. He leapt forward ignoring the shooting pain that ran through him as he did. “No. No stop.” Bruce swore as Dick jerked awake causing the heavy blanket to fall off his lap. Dick glanced around for the source of the sound, pulling the mask from over his mouth and nose. 

“Sorry!” Bruce stood frantically pressing buttons on the monitor. 

Dick blinked several times taking in the absurdity of it all. Bruce standing in his boxers half wrapped like a mummy, panickedly hitting every button he saw. 

“I just wanted to get water without dragging this monstrosity with me. I didn’t remember it had alarms.” Bruce finally found the correct button and silence filled the cavern. Bruce felt hot from embarrassment. 

“Should you be standing?” Dick frowned as Bruce turned to face him. 

“Probably not.” He tried to grin reassuringly, but Dick just continued to frown at him. Bruce slowly made his way over to the refrigerator leaning heavily on the counter top as he went. He pulled two water bottles from the refrigerator and tossed one to Dick. 

Dick let it fall to the ground in front of him. He didn’t even attempt to catch it. 

Bruce frowned, wanting to rush over and search him for injuries. Had Alfred missed something? Unfortunately he was far from in any condition to do so. “How are you feeling, Chum?”

“Like I dragged a buffalo carcass through a lion den,” Dick paused and smirked before adding. “That was on fire.”

“That’s… a colorful picture.” Bruce, comforted by Dick’s ability to joke, began the slow walk back to his own cot. 

“How long have you been awake?”

“A couple hours on and off. Alfred wanted to get some scans of your lungs, when you woke up.” Bruce sank back down hissing slightly as he swung his legs back up onto the bed.

When Dick said nothing, Bruce pressed the call button on his bed to alert Alfred they were awake. 

Dick just sighed, resigned to being fussed over. 

Bruce smiled. Dick deserved to be fussed over. He had done the impossible. He had.. “Dick. Alfred said you gave me CPR, got me home all by yourself?” 

“Yeah. Don’t do that again,” he shuttered slightly.

“Do what?” Bruce paused in raising the water bottle to his mouth.

“Don’t die. It’s… It’s not-- Just don’t. Okay?” Dick kept his eyes fixed on Bruce’s water bottle. 

Bruce sat silent for a long moment, his throat felt tight. Dick had nearly lost another parent. Bruce needed to do better. “I’m sorry. I-- Dick you were incredible tonight. I’m sorry you had to do that alone.” 

Dick tilted his head slightly, a crease forming between his eyebrows. 

“Thanks for saving me.” Bruce shot him a small smile, hoping he understood that he meant it. 

“Don’t sweat it, B. What are partners for?” Dick shrugged and winced in pain. “Ouch. I forgot I cut my back up. You think Alf will be mad I forgot to tell him about it? 

Dick twisted around to try and look at the wound. He was too absorbed in investigating the injury to see Bruce’s face fall. The word partner echoing in his ears. 

**Author's Note:**

> One day I will figure out how to write a happy ending, but that day is not today.


End file.
